


Cruciatus

by gxldensnitched



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst to Fluff, Cute, Draco needs a hug, Drarry, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Helpful Harry, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Sad Draco Malfoy, Sectumsempra, angsty drarry, but only from harry, drarry angst, harry x draco - Freeform, hpdm - Freeform, romione, sixth year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-27 12:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14425563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gxldensnitched/pseuds/gxldensnitched
Summary: In which stalker Harry figures out that something is desperately wrong with Draco Malfoy. As much of a git as he is, Harry can’t bear to let him deal with it alone.





	1. Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy was crying. Actually crying.

Harry would have been less shocked if he’d walked in to see Voldemort and Dumbledore having a cup of tea together. 

Malfoy was trembling in front of the sink, tears streaming down his face, and his hair, which was normally gelled to perfection, was so messy that it rivalled Harry’s own. His choked sobs echoed around the otherwise empty bathroom. It almost hurt to look at him. His rival, if he could even call Malfoy that anymore. 

He’d barely glanced at Harry all year, not even the time when Harry had deliberately tripped and fell flat on his face to see if he could get a reaction out of him. All Malfoy had done was scowl at him, but even that didn’t have the menace it should have. It drove Harry nuts. 

The moment was broken as he took a step forward, and his worn out old Converse (which he continued to wear despite Ron’s obvious amusement) touched the wet floor with a squeak.

 _Damn it,_ he thought.

Malfoy immediately whipped around, almost slipping on the watery tiles, wand in hand. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his shirt was undone, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. 

He looked profusely un-Malfoy-like.

His eyes widened as he saw Harry standing near the doorway. He raised his wand at the same time Harry raised his own.

Harry, panicking, decided on the first spell he could think of.

_Sectumsempra, for enemies._

Malfoy was technically his enemy, right?

But Malfoy was quick, and before Harry could even get out the first syllable, Malfoy had cast his curse.

_”Crucio!”_

Harry knew there was no point in trying to cast a Protego to defend himself from the white hot pain that would be coming his way. It was unblockable.

Harry braced himself for the pain that he’d only once felt when he was in the graveyard with Voldemort himself. It had felt like scalding hot knives were piercing every inch of his body. 

But to his confusion, and utmost relief, there were no knives this time. In fact, he wouldn’t have even called them scissors.

A dull numbness quickly spread throughout him, and it was over before Harry could say _“What the fuck?”_

It almost reminded him of the feeling of your foot falling asleep, only this time it was his entire body. More uncomfortable and annoying than painful, really.

Malfoy looked almost as confused as Harry felt. His brows were furrowed, and his wand was now hanging limply from his hand.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything, but then it hit him. He’d gotten the advice from none other than Bellatrix Lestrange when he’d tried to use the curse on her. _You have to mean it,_ she’d shrieked at him, laughing at his less than successful attempt to hurt her.

Which meant that Draco didn’t mean it.

_He didn’t mean it._

Draco almost looked as if he was going to start crying again. His lip was trembling, and maybe Harry was imagining things, but it seemed like Draco’s stormy grey eyes were filling with tears once more.

For the first time, it occurred to Harry that Draco was just a kid. A kid who’d been dragged into this hellish war just like him. He knew they were far from being acquaintances, even, but he couldn't help feeling a little sympathetic. After all, who else knew what it felt like to have their destiny chosen for them better than himself? 

Draco (when had he started referring to him by his first name?) turned away from him to face the mirror again. He let out a shaky breath.

“I’m not doing anything evil, if that’s why you’re here,” Draco said, sounding exhausted.  _“Just leave me alone.”_

“You just tried to use an unforgivable on me,” Harry pointed out. “That’s a little evil.”

“Yes, well, I suppose you’re too unobservant to realize that it didn’t bloody work.” He said sharply, sounding more like himself than he had in a long time. Harry almost smiled with the sensation of pure relief. Almost.  

“You have the mark, don’t you?” Harry asked. It was a wild guess, but he was almost certain it was true. What else could cause the cool and collected Draco Malfoy to cower in front of a sink, sobbing his heart out?

Draco froze. After a moment, he spoke quietly, never turing to face Harry.

“Maybe you’re less of an idiot than I presumed,” Draco said quietly.

“What does he want you to do?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Draco sounded almost confident, but there was a note of uncertainty that gave it away. 

“Yeah, right. So you’re in here crying because of what, exactly? Getting an E instead of an O in potions? Not getting enough caviar for dinner?” Harry spoke, not unkindly, wondering if he should keep the sarcasm at a minimum. 

Draco turned around, incredulous.

“Excuse me? This is none of your business, and if you would kindly fuck off, we can both be on our way and pretend this miserable little run-in didn’t happen,” Draco snapped, grabbing his cloak from the floor and stalking past Harry, brushing against his shoulder as he passed. 

Harry sighed, and without thinking, he turned around and grabbed Draco’s arm before he reached the door. His heart was pounding, and it only increased when Draco turned to face him with a look of disbelief, confusion, and another emotion Harry couldn’t quite place his finger on. 

Harry pulled his hand off quickly, feeling a slight blush creep into his cheeks as Draco gazed at him with grey eyes that made Harry feel like he was being analyzed for ulterior motives. 

“I can help you,” he stated. _What the hell was he doing?_

“You don’t even know my task,” Draco spoke slowly, like he was addressing a five year old. “There’s nothing you can do.” 

“So you do have a task!” Harry exclaimed.

Draco opened his mouth, and quickly snapped it shut, looking like he’d already said too much. He was probably wondering why Harry was still talking to him, but Harry didn’t care. This was the first time he and Draco had ever had a civil conversation, and as terrible of a person he may have been, Harry knew he didn’t deserve whatever it was that Voldemort was threatening him with. 

“I- why are you doing this?” Draco asked, warily.

“Because... I want to?”

Draco raised his eyebrows, and Harry sighed.

“Honestly, I- I don’t know. I’m terrible in these kinds of situations. I’ve been kind of bullshitting through life. But one thing I’m sure of is that I know Voldemort,” Harry said quietly, ignoring Draco’s wince when he mentioned Voldemort. “I know the kinds of things he does, the threats he makes, I’ve literally been in his head. So maybe, just maybe, there’s a slight chance that I can help.” 

Draco paused. Harry hoped he was considering it, at least. It would be quite awkward if he refused and stormed out of the room.

After what seemed like minutes, he spoke.

“IhavetokillDumbledore,” he mumbled unintelligibly. 

“What?”

“He- he wants me to kill Dumbledore,” said Draco, refusing to meet his eyes.

Kill Dumbledore? Albus Dumbledore, the man even Voldemort himself hadn't been able to get rid of? Harry would have laughed if Draco hadn’t looked so distressed. That certainly wouldn’t encourage him to open up.

“That’s an impossible task!” Harry said incredulously.

“I know.” Draco hesitated. “I don’t think he expects me to succeed.”

Understanding dawned on Harry. Voldemort wanted to punish the Malfoys.

“Let me guess, he’s threatening you and your parents?” 

Draco didn’t respond. There was no need to.

“We have to talk to Dumbledore!” 

Draco’s jaw dropped open.

“Are you insane? What are we supposed to say, exactly? ‘Good evening Professor, I have to kill you by the end of the year or You-Know-Who’s going to murder my family’? Not a very good dinner conversation, is it?”  

“He’ll understand.”

“No!” He spoke fast. “At- at least not yet. I have to figure this out.”

“What is there to figure out? You don’t want to kill him.”

_”Oh, well spotted!”_

“Fine, at least think about it. He can protect you. He’s the only one Voldemort’s afraid of. Oh, don’t make that face! I’ve fought him enough times to be able to say his name!”  

Draco visibly relaxed, although Harry still suspected that Draco didn’t really believe he could do anything to help.

Well, Harry would just have to prove him wrong. He decided right then and there that he would do whatever it took.

“You’re really going to kill him, aren’t you?” Draco asked, as if he was really seeing Harry for the first time since he introduced himself, with no success, in first year.  

“That’s the plan, I guess.” Harry shrugged nonchalantly. 

The corners of Draco’s mouth turned up slightly, and Harry had to admit to himself that he was quite pretty when he wasn’t sneering.

“Can I ask you something?”

The question made Harry’s heart pound, but he nodded anyway.

“Why did you assume I ate caviar?”

Oh. Harry let out a breath, and grinned.

“Well, it’s rich people food isn’t it?” He responded jokingly.

“I’ve never even tried it.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

And then Draco smiled at him. _Really smiled._

As Harry looked back at him, he realized that maybe it was a good thing he had been in a stalking mood today. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry just can't help himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I know I said this was going to be a one shot but I really liked this concept and kinda wanted to continue! Hope you enjoy!

"Honestly, Ron, you've got your hand movements all wrong." Hermione let out an exhausted sounding sigh from beside him.

Harry looked up to see Ron frowning at the potion in front of him, which was starting to resemble curdled milk. Harry winced, wrinkling his nose at the putrid smell it was starting to give off. He noticed quite a few students step away from their station.

"I stirred it twice! Exactly as the textbook said, mind you." Ron protested, as Hermione cast a quick vanishing spell.

After their third attempt at a draught of peace, his mind had wandered elsewhere. Admittedly, he probably would have fallen asleep on his desk, had his best friends not been quarrelling so loudly beside him.

"Counter clockwise?" Hermione demanded, placing her hand on her hips.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Which direction did you stir it in?"

"Clockwi - oh. Shit." Ron mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Harry was too tired to laugh. He leaned his chin on his hand, gazing around the classroom until his eyes landed on a head of abnormally pale hair.

Draco Malfoy was sitting at his desk, hands crossed in his lap, gazing down at his own potion, a smooth, velvety baby blue. Harry watched as Slughorn walked by, giving Malfoy a curt nod as he passed.

Harry rolled his eyes, knowing that he himself could've invented a potion of resurrection and his old Professor, Severus Snape, wouldn't have even blinked in his direction.

To his surprise (and slight sense of intrigue), Malfoy couldn't have looked less pleased. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, and he peered blankly into the surface of the bubbling potion with eyes as expressive as a blank piece of parchment.

Almost as if Malfoy knew he was being watched, he turned his head ever so slightly, and Harry snapped his head down before he could meet Malfoy's gaze. His heart thumped a little faster, not at all willing to be caught, but when he looked back up, Malfoy was looking away, the corners of his mouth now turned down slightly.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The more he thought about it, the more likely it was that over the summer holidays, Malfoy had been replaced with a quieter, more sensitive, and all around more pleasant clone.

"Harry? Are you listening to me?" Hermione's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he brought his gaze up to see Hermione giving him a disbelieving look.

"Sorry, what?" Harry groaned.

"I asked if you wanted to stir the potion while Ron went to measure the ingredients, but you seem to be occupied." She raised her eyebrows.

"Sure, I suppose," Harry muttered weakly, shooting Malfoy one last questioning glance before pulling their cauldron towards him.

Ron returned, handing Hermione a tray of jars, and Harry saw them exchange a glance. It reminded him of the looks they gave each other back in fifth year, when he'd insisted Sirius was in trouble. The painful memory was one he tried to keep in the deepest corners of his mind, but old memories always tended to resurface when he least wanted them to.

A little put out, Harry turned so that Ron and Hermione couldn't see the frustrated look on his face. He began to stir.

After one more failed attempt, they succeeded in producing the difficult draught of peace. Hermione refused to admit that Malfoy's looked a lot more pleasant when Harry pointed it out.

As Slughorn dismissed the class, Harry tried to sneak one last look at Draco. But when he looked up, the desolate boy was gone.

Harry frowned at his books as he packed them into his leather bag, too distracted to even notice that both Ron and Hermione were giving him odd looks.

"Harry, mate..." Ron trailed off awkwardly. "You feeling alright?"

"You look a bit frustrated," Hermione piped in, helping Harry gather his quills.

"I'm fine," Harry lied. "Just worried about the quiz tomorrow."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, we can meet up to study later in the library. Ron, you'd better show up too, because if you don't-"

Ron raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, 'Mione, relax."

When Hermione busied herself with putting the potions materials away, Ron gave Harry an amused sort of look, which he returned with a shrug.

Harry and Ron both had free periods next, the only good thing that had come out of being in sixth year so far, in Harry's opinion. Hermione rushed of to her Runes class, while the two boys decided to head back to the Gryffindor common room.

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned suddenly, just as they were about to say the password.

"What?" Harry asked, as the Fat Lady looked down on the impatiently.

"I was supposed to write home yesterday," Ron massaged his temple. "You know how Mum gets when I don't."

"Sunday is letter day," Harry snickered.

"Shut up, Harry," Ron shoved him lightly. "Pigwidgeon awaits. Coming?"

"Nah, I should probably start studying," Harry responded, actually having no intention to open a single book.

"I've never seen you this motivated for Potions before," Ron raised a brow. "Hermione's starting to rub off on you, and I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"A bit of both, probably."

"As long as you don't start nagging me, too." Ron shuddered. "One person doing that is more than enough."

"I'll try my best," Harry laughed. "Go find Pigwidgeon before he pisses off more eagle owls."

Ron grinned at him before hurrying down the hall. Harry couldn't have been more relieved to see him go.

He loved Ron, but there was only one person he wanted to speak to at the moment.

One person who'd been avoiding him (and everyone else in the castle, of Harry was being honest) all year.

Harry couldn't get their interaction out of his head. He'd actually managed to have a civil conversation with Draco fucking Malfoy without getting hexed. Not that it was due to lack of trying, on Draco's part.

He knew he wouldn't be telling his best friends about it anytime soon; he could already imagine their reactions. Ron's jaw would drop, and after a minute for recovery, he'd go off about Malfoy using him to find out information to report to his Death Eater father. Hermione would immediately warn him about disclosing any information, and encourage him to report anything Malfoy said to none other than Dumbledore himself.

Harry decided it wouldn't hurt to keep this from them. Of course, if Draco was reporting his every move to his father, Harry supposed he'd have quite a bit of explaining to do.

But the sight of him in that bathroom was too raw, too real. Harry doubted the boy was scheming behind his back; as much of a prat as he was, Harry didn't believe that Draco wanted to be a Death Eater.

"Cockroach clusters," Harry said, and the Fat Lady swung her portrait open, leading into the familiar warmth and comfort of the Gryffindor common room.

Harry practically zoomed up the stairs and into the dorm he shared. Shoving his hands deep into his trunk, he fumbled around, feeling along the bottom. Finally, his fingers met parchment and he whipped out his second most prized possession. First being the invisibility cloak, of course.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," Harry whispered, watching as a map of the castle materialized. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of the sight.

He adjusted his glasses slightly, which were starting to slip down his nose. His bright eyes skimmed up and down the various rooms, corridors, and secret entrances of Hogwarts before finally stopping on Draco's name.

He folded the map, grabbed his cloak, and headed out the door, much to the annoyance of the Fat Lady.

Pulling the cloak over his head, he disappeared from sight, and started to make his way towards the Astronomy tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was sorta Drarry-free, but they're coming!! If you liked it, you should totally leave a kudos or a comment bc I'm sad and lonely and need validation lmao


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco just wants some peace and quiet...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to people who've let me know that they like where this is going, I was literally so stressed bc I was like "shit, what if I ruin this one shot???" I love youuuuuu

The Astronomy tower was quite a distance away from Harry's common room, which gave him plenty of time to contemplate the antics Draco could be getting up to behind its stone walls.

It couldn't be Astronomy class, of course. They only had Astronomy in the evenings. Besides, the map showed that Draco was alone, which Harry was grateful for. The last people he wanted to deal with were Draco's minions (or rather, ex-minions), Crabbe and Goyle.

In fact, Harry was less than enthusiastic about running into _any_ Slytherins at all, since they all apparently had it out for him. Considering quite a few of them had relatives that were avid supporters of Voldemort, there was no doubt as to why that was.

Harry paused in his tracks, hearing a faint set of footsteps nearby. They faded away, and he continued his trek.

He'd used the cloak enough times to know all the hidden alcoves and entryways of the enormous castle, which came in handy when a prefect or two decided to inspect the halls.

Harry reached the spiral staircase leading towards the Astronomy tower, and whipped his cloak off after checking up and down the hall. He scrambled up the stairs, feeling slightly nervous. After all, it would be the first time he'd spoken to Malfoy since he'd found him having a mental breakdown in the bathroom.

He put the cloak back on before entering the doorway, just in case Malfoy was up to something.

Much to Harry's relief, the newly withdrawn Slytherin was sitting by the window, leaning back against the stone wall with a textbook in his hands, chewing on the end of his quill. The habit was one Harry had as well, and the fact that he had anything at all in common with Draco was slightly off putting.

For once, he looked relaxed. Harry almost felt bad for what happened next.

He whipped off the cloak in a snap, making Draco scramble to his feet.

"What-" Draco yelped, nearly stepping on his own robes. "-the _fuck?"_

"I thought you were scheming," Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, planning my murder and all that. The usual."

"I wasn't, until now," Draco snapped, massaging his forehead. "Do that again and I'll-"

"You'll what? Tell your father on me?" Harry snorted, and Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Fuck you, Potter."

"Really? _Fuck you, Potter?_ That's it?" Harry asked in astonishment. "You really have changed."

Draco ignored him, and reopened his textbook.

"What are you working on?"

"None of your business."

"Merlin, I should have known we'd never be able to hold a conversation," Harry said exasperatedly.

"Naturally," Draco replied curtly.

The truth was that a small part of Harry had hoped they _could_ at least try, after what had happened in the bathroom. At least for a few minutes. Draco appeared to be even moodier than usual, but that may have just been due to the fact that Harry had just invoked a small heart attack.

"I came all the way here just to see what you were up to, and now you're just going to ignore me?" Harry said, leaning back against the wall.

"You think I want you here?"

"I dunno," Harry tried for a joke. "You do seem quite bored."

"Believe it or not, Potter, studying for a Potions test isn't always the most entertaining way to pass the time."

"Harry."

"Excuse me?" Draco furrowed his pale brows, looking up at him from his spot on the floor.

"My name's Harry."

"I'm aware, as is every sane person in the wizarding world," Draco sighed perversely.

"Are you done being difficult?"

"Are _you_ done stalking me?"

"No," Harry raised his eyebrows. "We had a plan, remember?"

Draco scoffed, and Harry tried not to appear offended. They _had_ come to the same conclusion back in the boys' bathroom, hadn't they?

Knowing Malfoy, he was most likely wrong.

Harry toyed with his sleeves, debating what he should do. It wasn't like he had many options left to choose from. If he stayed, he'd probably get hexed. If he left, the whole encounter would have been for nothing.

"Pretty awful plan you came up with," Draco said after a moment. "I'm surprised you've made it this far."

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

"Is that all you've got?" He sneered, mirroring Harry's earlier revelation.

Harry shot him a glare, which he hoped was as full of menace as he intended it to be. Draco, unfazed, looked back down at his book.

Biting back a frustrated groan, Harry clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms.

Irritably, Harry walked over to the wall Draco was sitting against. Draco's eyes narrowed in confusion as Harry walked closer, before he leaned himself against the wall and dropped down so that he was sitting just a few centimetres away from Draco.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco asked sharply.

"I just climbed the biggest set of stairs in all of Hogwarts, am I not allowed to take a seat?" Harry replied, pressing his head back against the wall.

If he was being completely honest with himself, Harry had no idea why he was being so persistent, especially when it seemingly kept leading to loose strings.

Draco seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he shifted uncomfortably in his spot, bringing his knees up higher, like he wanted to protect himself from something.

Draco was certainly intriguing, to say the least. He always had been, and Harry could never quite understand why he felt the need to know why.

"Are you going to do it?" Harry asked quietly.

"Do what?"

"Talk to Dumbledore."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why should I? It's not as if the old lug actually gives a damn about me."

"That's not true," Harry spluttered. Dumbledore was the only wizard Harry felt he truly trusted, apart from his friends.

"Of course you disagree," Draco said roughly. "You're his _golden boy."_

"I'm not his anything," Harry retorted, although the knew it was a bit of a lie.

Dumbledore's favouritism was subtle, but it was there. He'd always known, although he tried his best to pretend it didn't exist.

"Do you have the tattoo?" Harry asked abruptly. "The dark mark."

"Would it make a difference?" Draco's grey eyes searched his face, making Harry slightly uncomfortable. "You're acting like I've got a choice in this."

"There's always a choice."

"Right," Draco scoffed. "Now if you and your elaborate Gryffindor values would excuse me, I intend on getting some work done."

"I could help you study," Harry offered, hoping Draco would enclose a few more bits of information.

 _"You?"_ Draco laughed, but the sound lacked any actual amusement. "Potter, are you even passing the class?"

"I don't need to be passing to test you," Harry muttered. "Besides, it's not my fault Snape has always had it out for me."

Despite the fact that Slughorn was a perfectly adequate teacher, it was certainly difficult to achieve high marks in a course that, for the past five years, he'd been hardly getting by in. Not only was Snape unreasonable, but his tests always seemed to be a few levels above what they'd learnt in class. Of course, this wasn't a problem for people like Hermione, but the majority of the class seemed to be struggling as much as Harry had.

Finding out Snape wasn't returning to the position of Potions master had been one of the happiest moments of Harry's life.

"It is, actually," Draco mused. "You're quite irritating, I'm not entirely sure why your other Professors haven't followed in his footsteps."

Harry flipped him off, reaching forward to grab the book off his lap.

"What is it with you Gryffindors and invading other people's personal space?" Draco said under his breath, smoothing down the front of his robes.

"At least I'm not a pretentious snob like you Slytherins," Harry replied.

Draco wasn't looking at him anymore, and Harry grasped at the opportunity. He raked his eyes over the boy's pale skin, over the noticeable sullenness that had developed over the summer between fifth and sixth year. The lines under his eyes were more prominent, and he almost looked like he'd aged a few years.

Harry didn't think he could ever get used to this new, quiet Draco Malfoy. He almost didn't want to, even though he knew the old Draco would have hexed him on the spot if he'd shown up so suddenly.

"Where would one be able to locate a bezoar?" Harry asked, skimming the pages for the answer.

"That's not even part of the material we're studying," Draco furrowed his brows. "But if you were trying to increase your own minuscule brain capacity, it can be found in the belly of a goat."

"Does insulting me make you feel better?"

"Actually, yes."

"You haven't said anything about my hair yet."

"No need." Draco eyed it in disgust. "That mop speaks for itself."

Harry couldn't help the snicker that escaped his mouth. Oddly enough, the familiar bickering was the only thing in his life that felt even remotely normal.

Draco gave him a strange look before shaking it off.

"You're useless at this," he said, trying to grab the book out of Harry's grasp.

"You haven't even given me a chance." Harry moved it out of Draco's reach, raising it above his head.

"I don't need to." Draco gave him an affronted look. "We're not friends."

"Whatever," Harry said. "Name three potions that require gillyweed."

 _"You_ name them," Draco said with a familiar air of annoyance, now leaning over Harry to try and grab his book.

"Have I actually come across something you don't know the answer to?" Harry said in mock surprise.

"Shut up," Draco managed to spit out, and Harry came to the sudden realization that they were only a few centimetres apart.

They hadn't been that close since they'd gotten in a pathetic fist fight back in their second year. Harry couldn't even remember what it had been about.

Draco had an inch or so over him, which made it slightly more difficult for him.

Draco lunged at him, and in his haste to grab his textbook back, he moved forward a little too quickly, making him stumble onto where Harry was sitting.

Harry's eyes widened as Draco quickly caught himself so that his face was hovering directly over Harry's. His arms were on either side of Harry's waist, hands pressing himself up conveniently so that he didn't slam face first into Harry's chest.

Draco met his eyes for a split second before taking advantage of Harry's momentary stun and grabbing the textbook. Slightly flustered, Harry sat back up as Draco moved back, adjusting his robes awkwardly.

With a huff, Draco stood up, his cheeks turning a faint pink colour.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, immediately getting up as well.

"My room," Draco said, not meeting his eyes. "You're a terrible study partner."

"I tried."

"Try harder next time," Draco said, elegant robes swishing as he twirled on his heel and disappeared out the stone doorway.

"Next time?" Harry called after him, but he was met with no response.

Sighing, he decided he should probably head down as well. Ron was probably wondering where he was.

He departed slowly down the spiral staircase, all the while wondering how one person could be so infuriating and intriguing all at once.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry doesn't know why he cares.

"He never eats, have you noticed?" Harry asked, eyes flitting away from Draco at the Slytherin table and back onto the plate of scrambled eggs and sausage in front of him.

"Maybe he's trying out one of those diets in Witch Weekly," Ron said nonchalantly, shoving a forkful of roasted potato into his mouth.

"It's almost exam season, what do you expect?" Hermione said, ignoring her plate almost as much as Draco was ignoring his.

She had two books open in front of her, and was currently squeezing the last few lines of her Herbology essay onto the bottom portion of her smooth parchment.

"Midterm exams hardly count, 'Mione," Ron managed to say, mouth full of food.

Ron, pausing his chewing, gave Harry a slightly concerned look before scooping a few more pieces of sausage onto Hermione's nearly empty plate.

Hermione didn't notice, and she scribbled away hastily.

"Merlin, you don't think _she's_ on a diet, do you?" Ron whispered to him.

"It's _Hermione._ School work comes before health, remember?"

Ron still looked a little apprehensive, and he gave her plate a little nudge the way Harry did when Hedwig refused to eat.

Harry took his gaze away from his preoccupied best friends and back towards the Slytherin table, on the opposite end of the Great Hall.

There seemed to be _something_ on Draco's plate, because he was pushing it around with a fork. Chin resting on one hand, he looked exhausted even from across the room.

Harry chewed his own food slowly. Draco Malfoy definitely didn't seem like the type to go on a diet, so he could easily cross that off his list.

Crabbe and Goyle were sitting to his left, clearly engrossed in their meals as they stuffed their mouths, unaware of anything out of the ordinary.

Harry didn't even know why he bothered noticing Draco's abnormal eating habits.

He was good at noticing when it came to Draco Malfoy. He always had been. Thanks to his father's invisibility cloak, Harry had been able to observe Draco's every move since he'd started at Hogwarts, but it had never been something he did alone.

Until now.

Ron was blissfully unaware of his interactions with Slytherin, who Harry wasn't even sure if he still despised.

The actions and whereabouts of Draco Malfoy was a rare topic of conversation for them nowadays, as both Ron and Hermione seemed to have more important things to do.

He supposed it was for the best. If there was one thing Draco hated more than being in the same room as him, it was being in the same room as him, Ron, and Hermione, whom he seemed to hate just as much. Maybe even more.

Sometimes, Harry thought he'd noticed more about Draco than anyone else had. Crabbe and Goyle were quite thick, and Pansy Parkinson hardly seemed to hang around him anymore. He only ever saw her clinging onto Blaise Zabini, who he thought was a little bit intimidating.

So, he thought, he really was the only one who watched Draco. Of course, up until then, it had always been because he'd been under the impression that he was up to no good. It wasn't the same anymore.

Harry needed to know. If Draco had become one of _them._

He had to know.

Harry was so immersed in his own thoughts that he almost didn't notice Draco wordlessly leaving the Hall.

Harry shovelled his last bite of eggs into his mouth and stood up so hastily that he knocked his leg on the table.

"I think I might have forgotten my Herbology book on my dresser," he lied, wincing in pain as he stepped over the bench.

"You can share mine - _Harry!"_ Ron called after him, looking aghast, but Harry ignored him.

He nearly bumped into a few surprised looking first years on his way out, but he paid them no mind.

He looked up and down the hall, but there was no sight of Draco. Harry cursed out loud, balling his hands into fists.

"Fuck," Harry whispered. _"Fuck!"_

"Harry?"

Harry jumped at the voice, whipping around to see a confused looking Neville Longbottom.

"Neville," Harry breathed. "Why aren't you at breakfast?"

"I was helping Professor Sprout plant a few things," Neville said, abashed. "What's got you so stressed?"

"I'm looking for D - Malfoy," Harry said, catching himself just in time. "Have you seen him?"

"He was just heading towards the library, I think," Neville said thoughtfully. "Why?"

"No reason," Harry shrugged. "Thanks, mate. See you around, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay...?" Neville's concerned voice came from behind him, but he was already speeding down the hall.

Harry reached the library in less than a few minutes, quick pace causing him to pant slightly. Leaning against a wall to catch his breath, Harry peered into the vast room.

He wished he'd kept his map handy; of course he'd assumed that no sneaking about would be required during breakfast.

After peering between various shelves, coming across two snogging couples, and almost giving up, Harry stumbled upon a head of pale blond hair, wisps of it falling down as Draco immersed himself in a book that Harry couldn't see the cover of.

The blond immediately whipped up at the sound of footsteps, and Harry, with no cloak to hide behind, gave him an awkward sort of wave.

"I should have known," Draco muttered, brushing platinum hair out of his eyes. He immediately shoved the book he was holding back on the shelf, which certainly made Harry perk up in curiosity.

"You skipped breakfast," Harry pointed out.

"How observant," Draco said, raising a brow. "I really ought to give you more credit."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, ignoring the jab at his observance. "Who comes to the library this early, anyway? Even Hermione usually waits until after lunch."

"Why the sudden interest in my life?" Draco replied coolly.

"I figured we should at least _try_ to get along," Harry admitted.

"You're funny sometimes, did you know that?"

Harry sighed, realizing the conversation (much like all the other ones they'd had) was bound to go nowhere.

Perhaps it was best to be blunt. That was what Ron always said, although Harry doubted he was the best person to go to for advice.

"Are we not going to talk about what happened in the bathroom the other day?" Harry asked, and Draco froze.

"I'd very much like to forget about that, as well as every other interaction I've ever had with you," Draco said irritably.

"Well, I wouldn't."

"Good for you."

"Stop being so difficult."

"Stop fucking caring," Draco snapped, and then immediately seemed to regret his choice of words.

"Why?" Harry pressed, curiosity getting the better of him.

Didn't Draco want his help? If he'd been in that position, forced to choose a side in a war he didn't want any part of, he'd have wanted all the help he could get. Then again, Draco had never had anything in common with any sane person.

"Merlin, Potter," Draco murmured, turning away. "What the hell do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?"

"You know what I think?"

"I don't really care what you think."

"Well, I'm going to tell you anyway." Harry folded his arms across his chest. "I think that if you really didn't want me around, you'd have hexed me by now. Or yelled at me, at the very least."

"I _have_ been yelling at you."

"Not like you used to."

"What are you, a damn mind healer?" Draco said abruptly. "You don't know a thing about me."

"I think I do," Harry said quietly.

Harry didn't know why he wanted to have a breakthrough with Draco so desperately. Hell, the git almost didn't deserve it, after the way he'd treated everyone around him all his life.

Maybe it was just a fleeting hope, but Harry could almost sense the regret in the boy in front of him. The one who used to taunt muggleborns in the hallways, but now hardly spoke to them unless absolutely necessary. The one who used to come up with more obnoxious nicknames for Harry than he could count on both hands, and now called him nothing but his last name.

Draco Malfoy was a mystery, and an alluring one, at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for the slow update, this week has been insanely busy :( Hope you enjoyyyyyy!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attempted bonding. Need I say more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I'm so sorry I know I haven't updated in over a week but I've had a fever which sucked so yeah forgive me lmao

"Does your little gang know you're speaking to me?" Draco asked finally, looking like he had no choice but to stay.

"Nope," Harry said, popping the word. "Does yours?"

"No, and it's going to stay that way. I do still have a reputation to uphold." Draco raised his chin slightly, looking all too much like the Malfoy he knew and despised.

"Right, I wouldn't want to tarnish that," Harry snickered, earning him a shush from a nearby prefect. "What were you reading, anyway?"

Harry moved towards the shelf Draco was standing by, grabbing the thick book that stuck out slightly more than the others in the haste of being put away.

"Wait, don't-" Draco started abruptly, but Harry had already seen the title.

 _"Secrets of the Dark Arts?"_ Harry read the title aloud, eyes widening as he gaped at the murderous looking silhouette of a wizard on the front cover.

"Believe it or not, I wasn't planning on using any of the spells in it," Draco whispered sharply. "Are you always this intrusive?"

"Only when it comes to you," Harry said. "And why exactly were you reading it then?"

"You wouldn't understand." Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Try me." Harry said, jutting his chin. It was a challenge, and Draco knew it. It made the air around them all the more familiar.

"Fine," he spat, like the words were venom. "I'm trying to understand what the spells mean and what they do, so that I know exactly what types of torture methods are being used down the hall to my bedroom when screams are keeping me awake at night. That way I'll have at least a faint idea of how long they'll last before I can fall asleep again."

He grabbed the book out of Harry's hands and stalked off, leaving him standing there with his mouth parted and an uneasy sort of feeling in the pit of his stomach.

_Shit..._

"Malfoy," Harry called, speedwalking in order to catch up to him. "Malfoy, wait. Hold on a moment, would you?"

Draco stopped in his tracks, whipping around to face Harry. The anger that had been prominent in his features only a minute ago had been replaced with a look Harry could only describe as exhaustion. Harry almost felt guilty for being the reason behind it.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quickly. "I didn't mean to pry like that."

"Right, I'm sure you value my privacy a great deal," Draco snorted. "It's not like you follow me around the school constantly, or anything."

"I said I'm sorry," Harry said indignantly. "And I would hardly call it constant."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Draco's voice was desperate, almost needy.

"Why won't you let me help you?"

"You really don't understand, do you?" Draco said quietly, stirring a pang of sadness in Harry's chest.

"What don't I understand?"

"There..." Draco started, sighing in frustration. "There are just some people you can't save, as heroic as you are."

"You don't know that," Harry said, shaking his head.

Draco only watched him, making him feel like he was being searched in every crevice of his mind.

The held the gaze for a moment, Draco's dull, grey eyes and his own bright green. Something in Draco seemed to give up, and Harry thought he might finally accept his offer.

"Breakfast?" Harry asked after a while.

"What?"

"I bet you're hungry," Harry shrugged. "You didn't eat anything."

"It doesn't matter," Draco said warily. "Breakfast is probably over."

"Maybe, but I know where we can get food."

He looked like his interest was peaked, and Harry watched in satisfaction as Draco had an internal struggle between following him and telling him to fuck off.

"I - Merlin. Fine. On one condition," Draco said, eventually giving in.

"What would that be?"

"Don't talk to me on the way there."

"Rude," Harry said, amused. "Alright, then. Follow me."

He pretended to zip his mouth, making Draco roll his eyes.

True to his word, he stayed silent during the gloomy walk to the kitchens, even though a million questions were racing through his head, aching to be asked.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked, after they turned yet another corner.

Harry gave him a look, as if to say _"I'm mute, remember?"_

Draco looked slightly amused as he turned away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes. Harry couldn't help but perk up a little bit.

When they finally reached the large portrait of the fruit bowl, Harry let out a triumphant sigh.

"Really, Potter?" Draco said, eyeing the fruit portrait up and down. "Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Relax, would you?" Harry said in exasperation. "Just tickle the pear."

"That's not funny."

"You think I'm joking?"

"I certainly don't think you're serious."

"Just tickle the damn pear, Malfoy," Harry smirked, entertained by the apprehensive Slytherin.

Draco scowled, looking up and down the halls, obviously afraid of looking like an idiot.

"I swear, Potter, if this is some sort of prank..." Draco muttered, extending his hand towards the pear.

Anxiously, he rubbed a pale finger up and down the smooth, green pear. Immediately, the pear wriggled up and down in satisfaction, and the portrait swung open.

Draco jumped back quickly, as if he expected someone to come out from behind the painting and throw a jinx at him. His hand instinctively reached for his pocket, where Harry assumed his wand was stashed.

Harry grinned, walking into the portrait hole, not looking back at the unnerved Draco.

"Welcome to the Hogwarts kitchens."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! i'd love to know what you think so far :)


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